


In The End, It's Him and I

by DarkAlpha67



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Casual Sex, Comforting Steve, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gentle Sex, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Using Sex To Find Comfort, comforting natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: As his finger nails dug into her sides, his arm muscles tensing and relaxing as he gave in too, Natasha reminded herself that she wasn’t alone.She had Steve. She’s always had him.She wasn’t alone…*The moments between Civil War and Infinity War between Natasha and Steve. (Until the end...)





	In The End, It's Him and I

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, I did it. I finally wrote a Steve and Natasha fic. Though I no longer ship them only in Avengers, they were the pair who I rooted for when I first watched Avengers (The very first movie, guys). 
> 
> I started this before Endgame came out and when it did, I had to change my ending and I couldn't find it in me to post the story. I am sure you all understand. :'(
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it.

Their lips met, caressing and sweet. His hands felt larger than life as they ran down her bare back, touching her, feeling her with no intent behind it. She hummed when he flicked his tongue, sighed when he shifted, grazing her body with his.

Natasha never knew such intimacy. Where sex was not a means to an end, where a kiss was not an instigation, where a smile was not a flirtation but sweet and kind. It shouldn’t surprise her that he would be one to give her all these things, he was always a gentle man, a loving and loyal person who gave what he could to the people he cared about.

The hand on the small of her back vanished, his touch imprinted on her skin. Fingers ran through her pale blonde strands, pushing it back to reveal her face as he pulled away. His face was clean, the beard long gone but his hair remained the same length and shade.

Natasha opened her eyes, met those sky-blue orbs that gazed up at her. She felt her lips tick into a smile, a small one that slipped away a second later. She hadn’t been able to smile much these past couple of months, nor as he.

“You’re thinking too much.” His chest moved, pressing up against hers as he inhaled.

Natasha shifted above him, grinding down, invoking a soft moan. She ran her fingers down his jaw line, giving him the little affection, she could manage before sitting up, shifting down. His hands stroked her body, moving down to her thighs as he leaned back onto the bed. Natasha lifted herself up, reaching back to align him with her.

Their eyes met as she sank down onto him. A groan escaped his lips, his eyelids fluttering, tempted to close at the sensation but he forced them open, looking up at her. He was always looking at her, as though he was fearful that she might disappear at any second. She found herself doing the same thing.

As she moved, rising and lowering herself onto him, feeling him in her, hot and throbbing, she felt the heat in her core behind to rise, bring with it the chemical euphoria she always sought. The hands on her thighs tightened, fingertips digging into her skin as he held himself back, hold onto whatever control he always thought he needed to have.

“C’mon.” She breathed out, urging him to move with her, to not hold back. “C’mon, Steve.”

The sound of his name leaving her lip seemed to snap him back to this moment. He squeezed her thighs, the pain sharp but not hurtful. Steve gasped as he surged up, pressing his torso and chest up against her, rubbing up her sensitive nipples that had been in his mouth not an hour ago. She wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders, gripping onto him, her other hand sinking into his hair, grasping onto the dark strands.

They picked up the pace, the bed shifting, the mattress muffling the creaking of the springs. He burrowed his head into the curvature of her neck, mouth latching onto the skin, sucking and biting. She tugged at his hair, pulling him back.

_No marks…_

He got the message loud and clear, months of doing this making this form of communication possible. Instead, he moved lower, dragging his mouth and tongue across her chest. She lifted herself up, and he latched onto the rosy nipples, arm wrapping around her waist, holding her as he thrusted up into her, going deeper than before.

Natasha gasped, biting on her lip, stopping whatever sound was lodged in her throat. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as she forced herself to give in into this moment, to use this thing with Steve for what it really was.

As his finger nails dug into her sides, his arm muscles tensing and relaxing as he gave in too, Natasha reminded herself that she wasn’t alone. She had Steve. She’s always had him.

She wasn’t alone…

 

*

 

“You okay?”

She looked up as she stepped out the bathroom, body clean and shamelessly bare for Steve’s eyes. She toweled her hair, drying the few strands that had gotten wet from the shower. Blues locked with hers, but they drifted no lower. Natasha wanted to scoff that the act, remind him that they had just had sex and that he didn’t have to always be so respectful, but she didn’t.

“I’m fine.” She sighed, dropping the towel by the desk chair nearby where her closed laptop sat. Looking away, stifling the desire to check up on any updates, she moved to the bed and climbed in.

They did this, now more often than before. They shared a bed, shared a space some nights when they needed some confirmation that not everyone was gone. They needed someone there, when the other woke up screaming their teammates names (For Steve is was often Bucky, Sam and Tony. For Natasha it was Clint, Steve, Tony and Bruce).

Steve hummed, head lolled to the side as he looked at her with understanding eyes. Natasha lowered herself down, curling an arm beneath her head, her body tucked into itself, sheets blanketing her body. Green eyes locked with sky blue, a moment passing between them before Steve broke eye contact, letting out a sigh of exhaustion as he sat up.

Natasha watched with predator eyes as Steve shoved the sheets away, a spark of disappoint filling her when she caught sight of the black briefs that clung to his ass. As Steve padded around, bare feet making no sound, Natasha shuffled around and got comfortable.

With her eyes closed, her body warm from the shower and her insides cold and lifeless, she listened to the soft exhalation leaving Steve, listened as he moved around the bedroom, gathering his things before heading for the shower. The crashing sound of water leaving pipes filled the silence and Natasha sighed through her nose, nuzzling the soft pillow under her cheeks.

A moment later she forced herself into a restless sleep, her body knowing it needed to recharge but her mind too torment to offer any other form of peace but that.

 

\---

 

Natasha remembered the day Steve found her.

Everything she’d grown to love and know had been torn apart. Though it hurt her and made her feel disoriented in a way she hated, she was morbidly grateful she’d became personally acquainted with the concept of loss.

After what happened during Civil War, as some so eloquently dubbed it, Natasha had disappeared. She kept track of everyone, apologized profusely to Tony as much as she could, knowing she’d shaken his trust in her, checking in with Clint and Wanda every so often.

She’d been fine until three months later when a knock came in her small one-bedroom apartment. With a knife in hand, she hurriedly checked all the security cameras that surrounded her location. Her heart thumped and her stomach twisted in an anxious knot when she spotted the large figure standing just outside her door. She knew in an instance who it was, recognized his unnaturally broad shoulders and trim waist.

When Natasha opened the door, her pale pink lips tugged up into a cool smirk as she met his shocked expression. She watched as Steve’s eyebrows lifted just a bit, his lips parting to exhale as his shoulders rotated and sunk into a relaxed stance.

“How did you find me?” She asked, getting right to the point. She needed to know who and how she’d been compromised.

“It took a while. Clint pointed me in the right direction.”

“Of course, he did.”

Steve sighed, his eyes widening with hope. “Can I come in?”

Natasha didn’t budge. “Who else did he point for?”

“Just me.”

“And who else knows you’re here?”

“Just us.”

She stared at him, her neutral yet knowing mask in place. Her green eyes danced around, taking him in as well as his surrounding, searching for anything and everything. Satisfied, Natasha moved to the side and allowed him in, closing and bolting the door the second she could.

Swirling her knife, she made her way to her desk, eyes scanning the camera’s while also taking note of Steve as he looked around, hands folded before him, shirt straining against his muscles. Her lips quirked up in amusement.

_Always the gentleman._

“Take a seat, Steve.”

He made himself comfortable.

“Now.” Natasha claimed the seat before him, head cocked to the side curiously. “Why are you here?”

Steve, knowing better than the beat around the bush with her, inhaled and said. “I was able to get Wanda and the other’s out of holding.” He revealed. “But, things are still a mess after the accords.”

“And how it that my problem?”

“Nat.” Steve said her name and only her name and yet it held more meaning that anything else he could have said.

Sighing, she said. “I have my own missions, Steve.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I was hoping, your missions could become mine. And mine, yours.”

“Why?” She asked, though she knew why. She saw the restlessness in his eyes, saw the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m a soldier. I was not made to sit around and wait.”

She licked her lips, ducking her head as her eyes burned in his. “How’s James?”

“Healing.” He said the words with so much pain. “He decided to go back in cryo until they are able to _de-programme_ him.” His expression twisted sourly at the words. Natasha saw the pain in his eyes, the helplessness behind his expression.

“So you need a distraction?” She voiced.

Steve looked at her. “I need a purpose.”

 

*

 

They weren’t Captain America and Black Widow.

They were something else and with that lack of titles, they discovered who they were in each other.

She was still heart-sore over Bruce’s disappearance. Steve was still racked with guilt over Tony.

They found comfort in one another. Natasha remembered the look in Steve’s eyes after one of their missions, both a little bruised and a little broken. They patched one another up in the safety of their safe house, bodies throbbing with pain. She’d made the mistake of looking up and over her shoulder to where Steve was busy stitching her wounded arm.

Sky blue met hers and her lungs constricted at the intensity behind his gaze. She waited for Steve to look away, to turn into the bashful gentlemen she’d grown to care for, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes dropped for a second, tracing the curve of her plump lips before they raised and met hers once more.

He swallowed and turned his attention back to the stitching and Natasha forced herself to remain in control, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, making it harder to remain objective when a release was so close to her.

Steve left her for moment to take a shower and wash off the dirt and grime that caked his skin and hair and when he returned, Natasha saw the intent behind his eyes as he stared at her from the entrance of the bathroom.

She cocked her head to the side and said to him in a seductive husky voice. “See something you like, Rogers?”

Steve inhaled yet remained in place. “Are you sure you want to cross this line, Natasha?”

“Are you?” She asked him.

She wasn’t going to give him an answer, he knew it and she knew it too. He’d ask her and skirt the line all he wanted, but Natasha was not going to give herself over to him. Not in the way he wanted. His navy sweats hung low on his lips, teasing her with a peek of his V-line that led to something better, his white vet clinging to his skin as though painted on his body.

He took one last breath and made his way across the room. Natasha stood up from the couch she’d been contemplating sleeping on just as Steve’s hands wrapped around her hips, tugging her body impossibly close before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She bit back a moan, wrapped her good arm around his neck, forearm curled up and fingers sinking into blond strands. She gripped his hair as Steve pressed their hips together, allowing her to feel his response to her, his want for her.

Clothes were discarded and more and more skin were touched and caressed by sweet kisses and wet licks. She allowed Steve to hoist her up, groaning and nipping at his bottom lip as her soaking wet core grinded against him. She tightened her legs around his waist, trapping him between their bodies. Steve buried his face into her neck but Natasha, with a firm grip on his hair, tugged him back.

Steve pulled back and looked up at her, blue eyes darkening with lust and swimming with confusion.

“No marks.” She told him, her voice breathless even to her own ears.

Steve nodded and leaned forward for a kiss that Natasha gladly returned. Steve walked toward the only room with a bed. She loosened her hold on him as he lowered them down. She remembered everything about that night.

She remembered how sweet Steve had been, attentive and loving in a way no man has ever been, except only one. Natasha remembered having to urge Steve to let go, promising him that she wouldn’t break but still he restrained himself. He stroked her body with large hands, held her leg in place as he thrusted into her. She wasn’t vocal, but Steve seemed to know what she liked and what she didn’t by the sound of her breathing.

When they were spent, with Steve regaining his breathing quicker than her, Natasha rolled off him and padded out of the room to the bathroom. She cleaned herself off as best she would, picking up their clothes before making her way back into the room.

Steve looked relaxed but the tension in his body seemed to be creeping back. His eyes dropped the clothes in her hands, and she ignored the look of disappointment.

Natasha lifted his sweatpants and vest. “So you won’t have to parade around in your birthday suit tomorrow.”

Steve gave her a smile, but his eyes softened with concern. To ease his worry, Natasha made her way back to him and leaned in to press a soft kiss on his lips.

“We’re fine.” She told him when she pulled away. “We both wanted this and needed this. It doesn’t have to be more than what it was.”

The tension in his shoulders left. “You sure?”

“I am not looking for something, Steve.” She told him, her lips tugging up into a smirk. “Woman are capable of having one night stands.”

A blush warmed his cheeks. “Geez, you don’t have to tell me that.”

She winked at him playfully before straightening up to make her way to the door. The bed creaked and she turned to see Steve standing up, unashamed of his own nakedness. His once soft cock twitched as it slowly hardened.

Steve caught her eyes. “Sorry, it happens. It doesn’t mean I didn’t get off.”

“Oh, I know.” She replied.

Steve smiled and walked past her, stopping to stand between her and the bedroom door. “You take the bed. You need it more than I do.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the room, with the door slightly ajar. Her smirk softening into a smile and with a shake of the head, Natasha claimed the left side of the bed, slipping under the covers without a strip of clothing on.

She heard Steve moving around as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

 

*

 

They moved as though reading the other’s thoughts in a fight, easily taking out their respective targets, knowing the other would block any and all incoming attacks, protecting the other’s six.

They were partners, she realized three months into their mission.

She’s just returned from having stripped her hair of its signature red to a pale blonde, cutting it into a pixie cut which fell over her forehead in windswept strands. Steve had taken one look at her new hairstyle and smiled softly.

Later that night as they read over the files, she’d obtained which held classified information regarding the suspected terrorist organisation who’s been dealing Chitauri-fuelled weapons, her attention was drawn to Steve as he let out a thoughtful sigh.

“What?”

He looked up at her, eyes light with humor and lips quirked into a smile. “How do you think I would look with a beard?”

“Depends on the beard.”

Steve considered her answer for moment. “You’d tell me if I start looking like an ape?”

Natasha smirked. “Only one way to find out.”

As the weeks passed, Steve’s clean-shaven face slowly darkened as a stubble surrounded his mouth and covered his jaw.

When they had sex roughly a week later, Natasha bit down on his full bottom lip, drawing back to look at his face. Her fingernails scratched at the hairs on his jaw.

“Lean back.” She ordered softly.

Steve happily obliged, humming when Natasha shifted up until her milky thighs bracketed his face.

 

*

 

“Why do you never talk about him?” Steve asked in the dead of night.

“Who?”

Steve rolled over in the bed, wide shoulders shifting as he does do. Natasha remained cool and collected as she regarded him.

“Bucky – Or I guess, James to you?” Steve answered gently, his voice shifting as he said his best friend’s name. “He told me he remembered you, though he doesn’t know why.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Steve fell silent for moment. A stray curl fell over his forehead but he made no move to swipe it away. “I just figured you’d like to talk to someone who knew him.”

Natasha gave him a sad smile. “But you don’t. He was not the same man and I was not the same woman. Often, memories are best forgotten.”

Blue eyes blinked and Steve swallowed. “I guess.”

 

*

 

Steve spun, leg kicking out as he took down another Black Widow. She recovered quickly, her cold grey eyes fixed on him as though he her prey and she the predator. It was a look he’d seen often in his enemies and his body readied itself for the oncoming attack.

There was a grunt behind him, and Steve ducked in time as Nat slammed her knee in the Black Widow, dropping to slam her fists into the assassin’s ribs with three consecutive strikes. The Black Widow twisted out and away from Natasha just as another made itself known; their red hair strikingly similar to Nat’s.

Green eyes met Steve’s and together they strike.

They moved with grace, switching between the two remaining Widow’s; Nat wrapping her legs around the assassin, twisting around before she tossed the Widow to Steve who took a swing. Natasha landed softly on her feet, only to kick her leg out, the sole of her boot slamming against the other Widow’s nose.

Just as Steve punched the Widow one final time, Natasha spun, the back of her leg connecting with the Widow’s head, the force of the kick causing Nat to sink to her knees to absorb the force and maintain her balance.

Together the two assassins dropped to the ground.

Steve and Natasha straightened up, chests heaving, a bruise coloring his jaw and a dribble of blood dripping down the corner of her mouth.

They looked around, taking in the eighteen bodies, give or take, which laid sprawled out on the floor. Some dead and some unconscious.

Panting, Steve turned, meeting Natasha’s satisfied grin. “Call it in.”

 

*

 

“I knew her.” Natasha revealed that night, feeling the sweat cool on her bare skin. Her voice was slightly muffled by the pillow beneath her head.

Steve’s fingers, which had been dancing over her back, walking down arch of her spine, paused. The ruffled sheets were pooled over their waists, the cool breeze from the open window kissing Natasha’s bare back.

“You okay?”

He didn’t ask who she was referring to, if it had been one of the Widow’s who’d survived or who had been killed. His large warm hand flattened over her back, fingers flirting over the swell of her ass.

“Yes. She wasn’t the first and she won’t be the last.”

There was momentary lapse of silence, before Steve shifted, his hand leaving her skin to press against the mattress. She sighed softly, content for a second when she felt his hard length brush against the curve of her ass-cheek. Gentle lips pressed a sweet kiss against her shoulder, a hand curling under her stomach, pressing up, and Natasha willingly rolled over onto her back.

Hungry blue eyes traced her breasts as they bounced from the movement. Her hand sunk into his dark strands as Steve ducked his head, lips wrapping around a still sensitive nipple, the tip of his tongue teasing it to stand to attention.

Natasha sighed, closing her eyes at the sensation, allowing her mind to drift away and give into the moment. A dexterous hand stroked the length of her thigh, fingers digging into the meat. She parted her legs and fingers dipped into her wet core. Steve lifted his head, eyes still closed as leaned down for her lips.

Their tongues met as a single finger sunk into her.

 

*

 

With a single snap of the finger, every she’d come to love was taken from her.

Tony and Clint where nowhere to be found.

Everyone else was dust in the wind.

Steve had lost the light in his eyes.

She’d lost her faith and her heart.

 

*

 

“This will work, Steve.”

His face appeared broken and worn. It reminded her of the man she’d met on top of the Helicarrier. He’d trimmed his hair, allowing his blond strands to peak through his dark dyed hair, and shaved his beard.

She took a step closer and Steve willingly turned in his seat, parted legs opening further to allow her in. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. A sigh, shaking with anxiety escaped him and she tenderly urged his head forward until it dropped against her chest.

“I know. ‘Cause I don’t know what I’m going to do if it doesn’t…”

 

*

 

She wished she’d held him one last time…

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started reading Steve and Nat fanfics, I always gravitated toward the casual sex one's. It made more sense to me and hence why I went in that direction with this fic. You are free to read into the relationship and view it anyway you would like whether it be romantic, just comforting or something in between, I had both in mind when writing them.
> 
>  
> 
> Title is from Him and I by - Halsey.
> 
> Any and all mistakes are my own.


End file.
